


Poker Pair one-shots

by blood_and_gore



Series: DGM fics [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Fist Fights, HUFFLEPUFFS ARE AWESOME, Hotel Sex, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Missions Gone Wrong, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot Collection, Personality Quizzes, PokerPair (D.Gray-Man), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, References to Shakespeare, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Serious Injuries, Short & Sweet, Slytherins are the best, Trans Allen Walker, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Unreliable Narrator, and they were ROOMMATES, fighting turns to fucking, hehe that's my username, some chapters have smut but not all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blood_and_gore/pseuds/blood_and_gore
Summary: Fics featuring Tyki/Allen (and possibly some multi pairings.)





	1. let not my love be called idolatry

**Author's Note:**

> Allen Walker is trans and you can all fight me.
> 
> (Chapter 1 title from Shakespeare's Sonnet #105)

Tyki is fascinated by Allen Walker. He's fascinated, intrigued, by the violence lurking beneath his skin and hidden behind kindness.

The boy is a contradiction. The soldier's training of the Order, his tutelage under ~~that fucker~~ Cross, the circus, homelessness- and then, the way he fits in so well with the Noah, with the group's harsh brutality and penchant for killing all in their way. Allen Walker seems to belong everywhere he goes, and Tyki would almost believe it if he didn't see the despair hidden under Allen's smiles.

It's tragic, positively Shakespearean, and he would very much like to not care.

(Tyki is falling in love with Allen Walker, this boy who is not meant to be a killer and who will never love a killer like him.)

.

This mission was supposed to be a normal one: killing some politician opposed to the Noah's rise. Same old, same old. They're in the United States, and both of them have had missions there before (Tyki can even fake a passable Long Island accent, which he's used to annoy Road before,) but the Black Order's stronghold is quite strong there, too.

And therein lies the issue: Allen saw his asshole ex-friend from the Order, and is presently trying to deny the minor breakdown that followed.

.

They're in the United States, where hotel rooms don't come cheap. He can hear Allen crying in the shower.

.

He knocks on the door. "Boy," he says. No answer. He knocks again, this time calling Allen's name. The water shuts off.

"What do you want?"

A pause. "Do you mean long-term? Because right now I'd love a pizza. There's a few cocktail recipes I need to look up, and, like, nineteen books. I never finished reading _Timon of Athens_ , but it kind of sucks, but once I finish that and reread _Titus Andronicus_  in a less drunk state than last time I'll have read the full works-" he goes on, talking fast, distracting the boy in the only way he knows how to, until there's a choked laugh. "Allen. Are you okay?"

His voice is watery, but it's there, and the door opens. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

(Tyki averts his eyes, because Allen's clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.)

(Allen hugs him while clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and Tyki has no fucking idea what to do with his hands.)

.

Tyki is fascinated by Allen Walker, this boy who can kill corrupt politicians and scholars, who turned on his old group but can still be hurt by its members. Tyki is fascinated by Allen's body: dark surgery scars over a surprisingly muscled torso, the way his arm tattoo ends in curls of ink over his shoulder, his nipples, still damp from bathing-

He turns the water to the coldest setting and tries to think about _Hamlet_.

.

When Tyki gets out of the shower, he towels off before calling out, "Let me know if you need anything. I'll be a bit longer."

"Okay!" Allen calls back.

And he plans to shave, he really does, but then there's the sound of rustling and an odd sigh coming from the bedroom.

"Fuck," he hears Allen whisper.

Fuck.

.

He can't do this anymore.

.

He walks into the room.

.

He walks into the room, something Allen clearly was not expecting. "Tyki! Uh, I-"

Tyki strides over and cuts him off with a kiss.

.

"Oh, God, could you hear me from there? Shit. Tyki, I-"

.

Allen Walker is kissing him, and Tyki is fascinated by the taste of his mouth.

.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long has it been?" He punctuates the question with a roll of his hips. "How long's it been-" a groan, because now Allen's lips are on his neck- "Since you last, oh, fuck!"

And Allen _bites_ him, the fucker.

He perseveres. "No, really, we should probably talk about boundaries and whatnot- shit, man."

Allen, straddling him, says, "You already know I'm trans. I think it can be safe to assume I'm bottoming."

"I mean, I dunno if you wanted to peg me, or something-"

"Today, you are going to fuck me until I forget my own name. Are we clear, Tyki Mikk?"

And fuck if that tone of voice doesn't do things to him. "Very."

.

He's so hard that sliding on the condom is in itself a welcome relief, but he does it slowly anyway, putting on as much of a show as possible. Allen seems to appreciate it, a hand drifting back down towards his clit.

.

Tyki stands before where Allen's spread out like a meal, replaces that hand with his own to meet the quickly spreading wetness, and he can't help wanting a taste. He gets on the bed and lowers his face, glancing up to meet Allen's eyes as he nods. Sweet, salty, thighs clenching after barely two minutes of him sucking Allen's clit.

Allen's sighs are getting louder.

.

Allen looks up at him. "If you don't fuck me right now i swear i'll kill you."

Tyki grins. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

.

And that's really it, the way he's falling in love, in love with this contradictory man of bloodthirst and misplaced innocence.

.

Allen scoots down til he's lying on his back, Tyki kneeling over him. He kisses Allen's chest, letting his tongue dart out to lick the scar tissue, and Allen tries to grind upward but good things come to those who wait. Tyki avoids touching where Allen needs it most.

They continue like that for perhaps five full minutes, until Allen's legs are actually together in a desperate attempt to get some friction. Tyki's knee moves them apart and his cock pushes into Allen and _oh_.

.

"Oh," Allen's face is flushed, debauched. " _Yeah_."

It's barely past the tip, but it's a taste of what they both need, and Tyki has to actively restrain himself from going as fast as possible. Instead, he pulls out and then shoves back in almost all the way.

Allen's cunt is wet, and so loose and ready, and pulsing around him and it's intoxicating. A gasp, strangled and faint, escapes him. "F-fuck."

And Tyki looks down at him, right into those eyes (shiny and pale and bright, burning the grey of blankness, of ecstasy,) and pushes back in just a little deeper. He stays there for a moment.

"Tyki, move, move, dammit."

"What's the magic word?"

He glares at him, then whimpers as Tyki starts to pull out. " _Please_."

And, well, no one ever said Tyki wasn't a gentleman. He moves. A few short thrusts, lifting his upper half up to change the angle slightly, and the rhythm is almost gentle, and it's slow and teasing and tortuous until Allen begs deeper, faster.

He, of course, refuses, keeping each thrust measured and even, before suddenly shoving all the way in and Allen wails.

"You like that?" Tyki asks him, voice rough. "You like that, boy? You like when I fuck you?"

A moan. "Yeah."

And now he's fucking him in earnest, the sound of skin on skin loud in the room. "Say it."

"I- ah! I, uh, love when you, ah, fuck me. Fuck me, oh, god, please."

Tyki goes harder, since he asked so nicely. But it's only a few more quick movements before Allen suddenly comes hard, crying out and clenching around him, squeezing his cock. Tyki abruptedly stops, staying in position, until Allen's orgasm subsides and leaves him panting.

Then, he starts moving again. Allen's sensitive, blissed out, and he intends to make him come a second time.

He fucks Allen slowly now, sliding his cock in and out of Allen's wet heat, and it's playing his nerves like piano strings and the cries and whimpers are music to his ears because Allen is oversensitive, overstimulated, and this is probably the closest Tyki will ever get to being loved by him.

Tyki's groaning now too, voice melding with Allen's 

He speeds up, thrusts now wild and deep. The rhythm gives way to something more primal, and Allen comes again, Tyki following a moment after.

.

Tyki ties off the condom and leaves it in the trash, and wonders if it would be too forward to curl up next to Allen in bed where he dozes.

Well, it's not like there's another option. He throws on sweatpants first, before climbing in and pulling the sheet over himself. The bed is plush and soft and smells of sex.

(Tyki is fascinated with Allen Walker, this boy who counts cards after murder and sleeps after lovemaking. He's fascinated by the way Allen is comfortable enough to sleep in the same room as someone like him, who smokes cigarettes after murder and reads too much Shakespeare for an assasin and cannot be loved by someone like him.)

As he drifts off, an arm wraps around him and a chest presses against his back.


	2. you look awful, love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> obligatory whump chapter with all hurt, no comfort, no smut, and a hint of friendship/family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: unspecified injuries, blood, bandages, quick binder mention, mild swearing, mentions of cigarettes and drug use, mentions of self-harm

He sits on the floor of the bedroom to bleed out.

It is ridiculously polished, and a single floorboard is probably worth more money than everything he'd owned at one point. A part of his brain balks at the thought of covering such lovely, shiny wood with blood.

He does it anyway, sitting there in what would have grown to be an uncomfortable position had he not been in considerable pain already.

He stares at the wall. Powder blue and hung with paintings, all of them no doubt priceless and certainly pleasing to his own eye.

The bed he's slept in for no more than maybe a few months looks the way it always feels, ridiculously plush and warm enough that it threatens to smother the harder, sharper parts of his mind, and for a moment he wonders if he should bother getting up and dragging himself there to die in comfort. He'll get the sheets dirty- and they've clearly been changed recently, no doubt by an Akuma servant- but it might actually be worth it.

The decision is made, and he gets up. Or, at least, he tries to, before the room starts spinning around him. (Part of his brain pairs this and the lightness and the cold and the slow thumping sounds and tells him _you're a goner, mate, you're dead_ , but it's already a bit late for his brain to be useful.)

(The door is ajar, and he briefly considers calling for help.)

Darkness closes in, and it strikes him as a bit ironic that he's going to die surrounded by pretty things and the smell of cigarettes.

The door opens wide.

.

He wakes in an unfamiliar room, swaddled like a child in blankets and bandages, binder off and someone else's clothes on.

.

"Do you know how scared I was?" Tyki asks. This, it should be noted, is the first thing he's said after walking in with long sleeves and the stench of cigarettes. "You trailed your blood through the whole damn house."

(There's nothing but a weak croak that tries to pass itself off as _sorry_.)

.

"Allen, you... you should've come to the medical wing. Or the Earl. Or _me_."

He mumbles, "Didn't know I was hurt til I got to my room."

"Bullshit. I'm going back to mine. Hell, I'm not even supposed to be here."

.

He's not unaware of Tyki's past. He does wish he'd been aware of trailing his blood through the house.

.

(He can just imagine it, like a Hollywood-red carpet or rose petals or paint. A rug of crimson silk over expensive hardwood floors.)

.

Road eyes him. "You look awful."

"That's not a very nice thing to say to a convalescent."

"You told Tyki you were 'fine'- don't bother, I know he visited you four separate times- and the Earl that it was 'barely a scratch.' Make up your mind."

The glare he sends her is only half-joking, and she knows that well. "Seriously. Are you okay? Tyki was a wreck after finding you. Screamed loud enough to give Wisely a whole new headache on top of the one he already had, and then he had that little breakdown. And I can't really see enough of you to determine for myself, under those bandages."

"Then how d'ya know if I look awful or not?"

(She sticks her tongue out like the child she is, and he almost smiles.)

.

"I don't need to see," she's hesitant for once, "to know when a member of my family is in pain. And when two of them are, it's unacceptable."

.

 _Keep walking_ , he had told himself once. But how do you walk away from your problems when you can barely move?

.

"You look awful, dude." Jasdevi speaks in unison.

"You're lucky-" that's Devitt-

"-that we managed to heal you-" Jasdero-

-and unison again. "-with our super awesome magic powers!"

("Also, it's a good thing we've got human nurses here with the Akuma!")

.

Most of the staff of the Noah medical wing is Akuma, and having his eye on "off" mode so much is giving him a headache. Good thing he's on so much pain medication.

.

"Allen, m'boy," the Earl says, "It's good to see you looking better."

"When can I go back on missions, then?" He dares to ask.

(" _We're not sending you on any more missions because you're an idiot child, even if you're past twenty, and clearly incapable of making decisions to keep yourself safe_ ," he does not say but Allen can hear it in his voice, see it in the way he regards the boy stuck in a hospital bed.)

"Oh, we'll figure it out as we go along."

"Okay," Allen says, staring at the white tiled ceiling. "Okay."

.

They release him on a Thursday. Not that the day is very important, since he's the Destroyer of Time and all, but it's a very Thursday-ish mood and that sticks in his head.

Tyki is not on his floor, where he's nominally been confined after what he was told was a spectacular mental breakdown. Allen decides to wait there.

He notes that the wooden floor is covered in rugs, all of them plush and in varying shades of purple and indigo.

.

"Do you know how scared I was?" Tyki asks, and Allen wraps shaky arms around him.

"I'm sorry."


	3. can i slither-in?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they take the Pottermore quiz, holed up in a safehouse. pure crack/fluff. this isn't a Hogwarts AU, but it's fun for me to imagine modern!characters taking the Hogwarts House quizzes online and debating results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some swearing. potentially upsetting to Hufflepuffs. this chapter contains no "mainstream" triggers and no triggers i've been asked to tag. this chapter does not contain smut or angst.

"Hufflepuff? How can I be a fucking HUFFLEPUFF?"

Allen blinks at him. "The word of the quiz is final, Tyki."

"No. Nope nope nope. I'm taking it again."

.

There's a fist-sized hole in the wall when Allen gets back to the Earl-approved safehouse.

"Hufflepuff again?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA." (Tyki screams incoherently into the pillow.)

"What were you hoping for, fucking Ravenclaw?"

"Slytherin. And I am one, you know."

"The word of Pottermore is final."

.

"How could my Patronus be a Jack Russel Terrier? It's a travesty, is what it is."

"Have you ever actually met a Jack Russel Terrier?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Dogs are the only good people."

"..."

"i was named after a dog, you know."

"You are the literal definition of a Tragic Orphan. You have a Tragic Orphan Backstory and _everything_!"

.

"Soooooo..."

"What?"

"You've got the tragic backstory. Does that make you Harry Potter?"

"Shut up, Tyki."

.

Allen is used to Tyki's scowl by now. "Unicorn hair? Fucking UNICORN HAIR?"

.

"Allen, did you take the new Ilvermony quiz?"

"Yeah. Thunderbird."

"Same!"

.

(Tyki Mikk is a fucking idiot and Allen kind of likes him.)

.

"So, what House did you get, anyway?"

"If you ask me again I will murder you and leave your ashes in a box at the bottom of the Arctic."

.

"What House?"

"Tyki, I'm trying to take a shower."

.

"Betcha got Hufflepuff too. Or Gryffindor."

"It's 2:14 in the fucking morning. We are _literally_ in the same bed, because this safehouse is stupid and the Earl thinks we should date. And you could check on the computer's history if you wanted to, you know."

"Why would I check the computer at 2:14 in the morning? My eyes are sensitive. I don't have Innocence to build them back for me."

"And I don't have the patience to deal with you at... 2:15 a.m." Allen bunches up the blanket between them.

.

(He wakes up to Tyki making... pancakes? Really? Wow. It's almost cute until he's presented with a his plate. Six pancakes say Hufflepuff and six say Gryffindor. He eats them all anyway, of course- the safehouse has enough pancake mix to last them weeks, even given the rate at which he eats them.)

.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts."

"What the _fuck_ , Tyki."

"What the fuck, Allen," he whines in imitation, "just tell me and I'll stop bugging you."

He pokes him in the shoulder. "But it's so _fun_ to keep you guessing."

.

He breaks down less than two weeks into their stay.

"Slytherin."

Tyki turns. Looks up from the book he's reading. "Hmm?"

"My Hogwarts House, according to the Pottermore quiz and every unofficial one I've ever taken."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I genuinely did not hear you, my dude. Thoroughly engrossed in nineteenth-century poetry, here." He takes a sip of the wine that the Earl should not have left in the basement.

"Slytherin." Allen repeats himself.

Tyki does a truly fantastic spit-take, wine all over that book of poetry.

.

"Well, I suppose it makes sense. You're pretty pragmatic. And ruthless. And I suppose you can be cunning and clever at times. And- oh my _God_ , how did I think you were a _Hufflepuff_?"

"I can be... hardworking?"

" _Dude_."

.

Allen stands before the bed they've been sharing. "I've been waiting to use this line for days now."

"Go on."

"Can I slither-in?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hufflepuff is legit the best House. they actually get things done when the rest of us drag our feet or ignore important shit.)
> 
> i took my first unofficial sorting quiz when i was but a child, and i skewed the answers to get Ravenclaw on every single quiz i took. when the "official" Pottermore quiz came out and i got Slytherin, Baby Me was absolutely crushed! so, like any other teenager, i made dozens of different accounts to change my answers on all the quizzes to get Ravenclaw.
> 
> nowadays, i am a well-adjusted adult who places no value whatsoever in the results of online tests. (incidentally, i'm a Slytherin/Pukwudgie with a thestral Patronus, a Chaotic Neutral Bard, a vampire in my past life, with the soul of a Libra and/or Aquarius.)


	4. baby love me apocalyptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fight, they fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More porn. What led to this event? Who knows! TW: Contains minor violence of the fistfight variety that leads into sex. Chapter 4 title from "Apocalyptic" by Halestorm

He doesn't know why but suddenly he hits the older man, hard enough to send him a few steps backwards. Tyki looks at him for a moment before retaliating with a punch to Allen's stomach.

.

"A brawl's what you want, yeah?"

And Allen nods, because that's what he wants. He wants to bruise the man, to be bruised.

A hook to the side of the neck, a kick in the stomach. Tyki seems to be ambidextrous, not particularly favoring either side more than the other; he guards and strikes equally well with both hands. The tangle of limbs is intoxicating, somehow, and Allen loses momentum enough for Tyki to pin him to the wall, knee between his legs.

He realizes that he's wet.

.

Tyki, it seems, realizes this too. "You want me to fight you or fuck you, boy?"

"There a difference?"

Tyki kisses him, and Allen bites down on his lower lip, drawing blood.

.

He pulls away with a grin, throwing two quick jabs to Allen's collarbone. Allen blocks the third, twisting his arm to the side and reaching out with his right hand.

Both hands are around Tyki's neck now while Tyki unbuttons his shirt, fumbling into the limited space between them. There's no mirror, but Allen knows there are red bruises blooming like roses on his face.

Before he knows it both their shirts are off, and so are Tyki's leggings, and he is stepping out of his sweatpants to reveal boxers soaked through while Tyki is clearly hard inside of his own underwear. On the couch, Allen pulls off the boxers, then reaches up to stroke Tyki through the fabric before pulling that down too.

Tyki's cock springs free, and it's a thing of beauty. Long, and hard as steel, and Allen whimpers a bit at the thought of that actually being inside him. It's a warm weight in his hand as he cups it, before Tyki moves again.

.

Tyki shoves into him and _oh_. Allen's skin is slick with sweat and his body trembles as he tries to adjust to the sudden presence, but then Tyki's hips are _snapping_ quick into his cunt and he can barely breathe.

It's hard and rough. There's no pretense, no love- just the delicious friction inside of him, and a hand on his clit. Allen loses himself, worry finally fading away until the sex consumes his mind.

A distant part of him is aware that he's begging, _deeper harder please_ and Tyki thrusts all the way in him, hard enough that there's a brief reminder of pain, and God it's so _good_ he doesn't know how to react other than tilting his head back over the end of the couch and crying out.  
_"Oh, God, fuck me. Please, yeah-"_

And Tyki changes angles to loom over him, and Allen is dimly aware that he comes in a burst of wetness before everything goes white and his mind is gone.

.

"Wake up, boy," a familiar voice purrs. Shakes his arm. There's something inside him. "I'm not going to come until you do again."

.

It's cold as it slides in deeper- a dildo, probably metal. He's slick and sore and oversensitive, but this round is slower and calmer than the one before when Tyki was fucking him. The fact that the dildo is much smaller probably helps.

Tyki moves the toy in and out a few times before playing with angles, and it's not long before it pushes up against a particularly sensitive place. Allen can't help the noise that escapes him, a high mewling whimper that's closer to a sob than a moan, and Tyki's smile is predatory as he presses a button and the toy begins to vibrate.

Tyki holds it there for maybe half an hour, until Allen is sobbing.

.

And then he pulls it out, and Allen doesn't know whether he should feel relief or despair at the loss. The closest approximation of words he can make is a soft _ah_ that can't quite express everything his body is feeling right now.

.

Allen can't breathe. Maybe that's because Tyki's hands are around his neck, _squeezing_ for just a few seconds as something is pushing into him again. And he can't help the way his body reacts to Tyki, even though he's overstimulated and out of breath and they're both sweaty and bruised.

He comes with a shudder, Tyki following a few thrusts later, and it's like crashing or diving or falling.

.

(After, they bathe and then they rub salve into the bruises. After, they crawl into Tyki's bed.)


End file.
